Of Foxy and Spiky
by Night Strider
Summary: Sometimes even if there's no catch, even if the weather's crazily bad, and even if one's so sick it's worth fishing. SenRuRuSen. One shot.


Of Foxy and Spiky

Disclaimer: I don't own SD boys, Inoue does. The events that follow are not included in the original plot but enjoy anyway.

Summary: Sometimes even if there's no catch, even if the weather's crazily bad, and even if one's so sick; it's worth fishing. SenRu-RuSen. One shot.

A/N: SenRu isn't really one of my fave pairings but since it's undeniable that it so cute to have these two together, why not give it a try? Hehehe. This came as a 2-second idea to me. Pardon if the English is atrocious and also, bear with the errors since I'm not the kind who would edit her works. Happy reading, SenRu fans.

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1st Day.

Sky's bright and the sun's low. The nautical feel of the air tumbles on the spikehead's face; cool breeze fresh with the smell of ocean is fluxing his hair to sway those tiny spikes like dancing cogon...this is the life. Seagulls are nickering too and the waves echo as they touch the sandy shores. Tide's not even high, not even low; moderate, and calm with minimal torrents. Perfect for fishing. He smiles intuitively, probably relishing the solitary sea side experience. What a wonder how shallow things as this make him happy.

He drops his fishing bucket and equips his nine foot rod, releases the nylon with the worm-prey hooked at its tip and throws it to the blue waters. It will sink halfway down the trench's depth and depending on luck, some passerby-fish may get enthralled by the wriggly worm and munch on it. Akira Sendoh will wait for minutes, get distracted by a tug on the thread, and hoist it up to check the results. Often times, he will get nothing; either the worm is still there or gone for some reason a sly fish only knows. At these instances, he will curse 'Darn it', then as if there's no bad luck he will repeat the process sans progress. How he loves to fish despite some random, rotten misfortunes that turn up once in a while. But it isn't always like that; at rare times, an overgrown mackerel will just show up, sometimes a foolish milk fish or an eel that seems to say 'Fry me! I'm sizzling,' will bite on it. Those are the times when he will hum to himself, 'I'm so lucky, oh so lucky.'

But today is...

Sendoh sits Indian style on a sea rock protruding above the water height. Donned in a fisherman's costume with bucket on the side, he moves but a little from that languish state. He yawns audibly and slightly twitches the rod as if to deceive himself that he's had a catch. But no; it has been an hour since he got there and no swimming species has been seen underneath the waters' transparency since.

'Damn it. Where are the fish?'

He decides to wait for a while wishing that some brainless fish will be lured by the delicious worm; pertinent patient he's got.

Another half an hour glides by uneventfully, and still another 15 minutes; still no go. He stretches up and snorts to himself. 'What a day.' As if it never happens a lot that he doesn't catch any. He gathers his things up and notices that the sun was bidding the day goodbye as it disappears beyond the horizon. This is the first time he reaches that late hour; it's 5:51.

Then he strolls away from the shore with a glum mood; later, it will wash away like he's had many fish, optimistic lad that he is. He steps on the roadside and hears a pedal being rotated. Strange it is since very few outsiders hit this neighborhood at this time; and the place doesn't exactly teem with residents, in fact it is one of the remotest area of Kanagawa prefecture.

Up ahead, a tall figure on a pink bicycle is visible to a small degree; then as it draws nigh, it gets bigger and more distinguishable.

Kaede Rukawa passes by Akira Sendoh. The time is 5:57 in the afternoon. At one flash, their gazes intersect until finally cut off from each other. Weird thing is, Kaede Rukawa isn't asleep.

Sendoh forgets the disappointment he just earned from the disappointing afternoon. His eyes are smiling and glittering from the reflections of the early stars above.

2nd day.

Fishing and squatting on the same rock.

Sendoh does the same as yesterday; waits a little, gets a tad sleepy, and leaves later. Always the usual humdrum. Minutes continue to drift in tremendous silence; for the first time, he is feeling bored. He frowns to himself, wondering if he expects anything more than a nil outcome for the fishing day; maybe everything in this life is being monotonous.

Then a thought hatches on him. He isn't supposed to fish that day because...how silly. Of course he doesn't fish everyday; general rule is, every OTHER day is fishing day. What an idiotic mistake it is to miss the word 'other' between 'every' and 'day.' An urge to laugh at this puny mistake wells on him but he realizes that it will just propound on the dumbness he's just committed.

He stretches up to stow away from the scene after summoning back the rod's nylon from the saline sea waters. Just as he's spinning the tiny pad on the apparatus, a force like a magnet pulls the stick back. Sendoh panics in surprise and reverses the spinning wheel; he increases his arm's gravity until something connected to the thread dives out in the air's altitude. He's caught a fish! How ironic it is to get one when it is contrary to the appointed schedule.

He dumps the poor catfish (are there catfish in salt water?) inside doom's bucket and sings his way through the road by tipping the sands under his soles. He's almost dancing in delight; first catch in a week is an auspicious sign.

He strides forward to the sidewalks with the not empty bucket on hand; not aware of anything palpable around him, he ambles absent-mindedly like a blind walker. Then quick as a blink, some hard, large and metallic something bumps him. 'What the-!'

Kaede Rukawa on his pink vehicle runs over Akira Sendoh. Perhaps it is Sendoh's bad luck replacement for catching a fish. The time is 5:47 on the dot.

Sendoh recovers from the crash immediately; the first stuff he checks is not if he obtained any bruise, but of course, his lucky catch. To his ultimate relief, the catfish is safe and sound in the bucket, albeit a little jumpy from the received shock; anyhow it is bound to grace the grill anyway.

'Sorry.' Cold, monosyllabic voice speaks out. Rukawa gathers up his bike; he too is thrown out of his seat.

'It's okay.'

Zoom. Rukawa drives off.

Sendoh sighs. 'What a wacko.' He mutters to himself. Right now, it doesn't even dawn on him that the sigh is transforming into a smile. Honestly, is the catch the only reason why he accidentally forgot that it isn't fishing day today?

3rd day.

It is fishing day. Now he's sure he's following his schedule. Same spot, same time, same inanimate surrounding, probably same genus of fish will come ensnared by the worm at the nylon's tip. If the milieu could speak, wouldn't it say that it is tired of Sendoh hanging around there every other day, not to mention 3 days in a row since the day before yesterday? If non living things could complain, wouldn't Sendoh be their problem? Oh well.

Weather's a little unkind. Earlier in the morning, a spray of tiny dews fell from the clouds which are considerably grey and hefty looking. Sendoh missed the weather forecast so basically he doesn't really know how the sky will react as time drags on. But he does have a feeling that no hard rain will fall judging by the complacent air blowing to the terrestrial areas. Even the tides aren't outrageous enough to stir some fishing boats off to the other direction. Last time Sendoh fished with the similar weather, he caught some fish; so this must be just the same.

He abides for awhile as usual, attending to his simple joie de vivre. He is aware of the sun's absence from the view yet, what can restrict him from the joy of his life? A dark sky isn't exactly an omen of bad luck nor an indication of a fishless afternoon. Nothing will stop him, naturally.

Then a motor fishing boat materializes before his eyes. Grrrrrrr. The engine roars continuously. A man on board seems to wave at him.

'Hey, lad. Any catch?' The man yells against the waves' sound amiably. He's been Sendoh's acquaintance, among the set of individuals who share the same precious hobby. Only difference is that this man's been fishing for 12 years; a true stager.

'Nope. You? Got any?'

'Nah. Haven't even seen any. I'm off; seems like they're frightened of the weather too.' The man answers with a smile.

'Oh...Is there really none?' Sendoh says with obvious dismay.

'None. I'd go if I were you; surely, you wouldn't want to catch some flu with this weather on, neh?' The man reassures.

'Okay. Thanks for reminding.' Sendoh stands up and makes a motion to leave. Not until then does he realize that the wind is indeed to frilly to be a by pass.

'Better luck next time for us.' The man says and bids him goodbye.

Sendoh hits the road feeling slightly heavy, though no weight dangles on him since his bucket is practically empty; he is heavy at heart that is. Maybe the weather and the ominous sky that comes along with it take their toll on him. He breathes deeply and releases his lung's air in difficult exhalation. 'What a day.' A no catch day in a sunny weather is pestering, but a no catch day in a threatening weather is different; it is saddening so to speak and right now, Sendoh is drastically being poisoned by that kind of sadness. The atmosphere gives out a melancholic air that is not easily forgotten until sleeping time. So strange it is. Sendoh walks the sidewalk with eyes down cast. No liquid is even showering from above; how can the clouds seem so fierce when waters are not even ready to collapse from them. Sigh...

He hears the same chain again; a pair of wheels scratching against the road's asphalt and some feet pedaling along the movement. The velocity is in normal speed, enough to provide a chance for them to acknowledge each other.

It is getting nearer, and the rider is wide awake, surprisingly. Sendoh alerts himself on the other hand. Then...

Face to face. Time pauses. Back drop is still. Everything's fading. Only he and the other remain solid and motile.

'Hi.' Sendoh says as the distance between them diminishes.

'Hello.' Rukawa replies. His tone is blanker than an unused pad paper yet it is melody to Sendoh's ears.

Then the distance between them extends as they slide away in opposite paths. The time is 5: 54 in the afternoon. Light drizzles begin to pour after the meaningful (is it?) encounter.

4th day.

The news predicts a brutal weather. Mr. Weather Man says that it has been diagnosed with a signal no. 2; the level which suspends high school classes. The typhoon is visiting Kanagawa and will be away in 2 days. Fishermen are whining, cursing the heavens, and sulking at home. It is not even fishing day; 4th day is study day, not fish. Before, he used to be a loyal follower of the 'every other day' fishing protocol; he would restrict himself and spend a day somewhere far from the shore without a word of complaint. That may be; Sendoh is feeling depressed than ever at this very moment. He relentlessly paces up and down in his room, constantly glimpsing at the wall clock above his bedroom door with a far-fetched hope that it will fast forward circa 2 days from thence. His parents warned him earlier not to go to the shores; 'The waves will devour you!' They told him.

He can't help but to obey and even if he insists on going, there will be no spot for him to fish. Of course the tide will be horrendously high and the bona fide sea rock that has been for so long supporting his capricious fishing is currently drowned in angry waves. And of course, the fish are nowhere to be found.

The time is 5:26. He can't stop himself, much as he tries. Something's beckoning him to fling his drawer open and to plunder it of something...his rain clothes. The minute hand of the clock follows the circular motion to the future, inch by inch, it goes ticking intermittently. tick tock tick tock. Sendoh plugs his ears to unhear it. No no no no. Time is not passing so dreadfully for me! He muses agonizingly. Then his impatience wins him over as he kicks his cabinet open to rummage it for his rain coat and varsity jacket.

He straps his varsity jacket and immediately unfolds the rain coat, drapes it over him, and jumps off the window all the way to the road to the shore. He runs and runs against the morbid, oversized drops of water; the rainfall seems to respond to his restlessness as it blurs his view further and gives him slight frost bites. Never mind the pain on both his skin and harried limb muscles; he goes on running until his ears capture the nostalgic waves of his dear shore. He struggles to catch his breath and clings to his knees like he's just reached the end mark of a track and field competition. By the time he pushes his brakes, the roadside where the seas are in full view is underneath his soles. The bubbles of waves touch the sands in enormous distance; a little wind blow will surely send the salt waters to the sidewalk. Sendoh watches it as time wastes away in unnoticed stream. Everything in this picture is so monochromatic, so grey; the only difference is the variation of its hues. There's the whitish grey, not so dark grey, common grey, dark grey, very dark grey...so boring, not even worth to get soaked all over.

Discovering that his time and stamina have been wasted; he moves away, not caring on whatever befalls on him. He feels stupider than ever.

Then something catches his eye; a stranded someone is dripping and shivering from the rain a few yards away. A pink bike is stationed by the sidewalk's gutter and its front tire is deformed. The rider, who's not even wearing a second layer to his outfit (just a shirt and pair of jogging pants), seems to have brought along a spare one but it's quite obvious that he's having difficulty replacing it.

Sendoh stalks toward the rider to offer his help.

'Let me help you.'

Kaede Rukawa looks up and nods.

Rain splashes even more hoarsely. The time is 5:57 in the afternoon. Both get wet big time.

Sendoh's eyes sparkle for the fourth time in four days. Perhaps, it's worth getting soaked after all.

5th day.

Sendoh is feeling weak. His parents are not angry for yesterday's breach of house rules but they are extremely worried. Weather's still so bad. It's fishing day and he can't get up from his bed. His temperature's 37.6 and the doctor says he's running a fever.

He's been asleep all day and hasn't eaten anything yet because of a blunt appetite.

He only wakes up when the clock hits 5:49 in the afternoon. 11 minutes later, he falls back to sleep.

6th day.

Sendoh feels slightly better; his temperature drops nearer to normal. Last night, he dreamed of catching all the fishes in the world. He laughs at the sweet thought...also somebody was with him in that dream; a blue eyed, fair skinned, foxy faced someone.

He is now able to get up but his parents veto it; 'You can hardly talk.' They say. His appetite's still to be looked for but in the afternoon, it's been revived.

First time Sendoh chews something in 2 days. The time is 5:48 in the afternoon.

7th day.

Fishing day! Hurrah!

Sendoh barges out of their entrance gate with healthy energy. His cheeks have regained their natural color and his eyes are wide with excitement. He's donned in the same fishing apparel but his varsity jacket isn't slung around his waist. With the usual bucket in hand and fishing rod resting on his shoulder, he marches his way to the formerly bleak fishing spot. He drones a happy rhyme as he traipses his way.

He descends to the sea side and equips his stuff for a lucky fish.

'How bright the sky is.' He tells himself and stretches his hands up for a warm-up.

Yes, it is brilliant with orange shades. Clouds are fleecy and white as a newborn sheep's wool. Seagulls are screeching; some are gliding down the shore to satisfy their rapacious hunger by scavenging on anything dead on the wet sand. The sun is no longer striking with sharp beams for it is already in its stages of goodbye. Air is still a little humid due to yesterday's wetness; it feels so cool on the skin.

'This is gonna be a long session.' Sendoh mutters to himself. 'Blimey, I missed 2 days.'

Sendoh hurries forward to his territory; his personal sea rock. But wait...

Somebody got there first; a blue eyed, fair skinned, foxy faced someone who's wearing a number 7 Ryonan varsity jacket. Sendoh remembers that he lent the windbreaker to the freezing Rukawa 2 days before.

'Kaede?'

The other looks back and nods. He's sitting Indian style on Sendoh's rock.

'Do you fish, too?' Sendoh asks curiously. He isn't angry or anything...He's just feeling satisfied, that's all.

'No.'

'Then what are you doing here? Sight seeing?' Sendoh says with a positive frown. No, he's not angry at Rukawa for stealing his spot.

'Waiting.'

'Waiting for the sunset?' Sendoh asks again. The sun's really beautiful from that place. Again, he's not ticked off by the other's incomplete, single word response which somehow makes him tired of asking.

'No.'

'What are you waiting for then, Kaede?' Sendoh throws a query for the nth time. He's still not angry for the other's obscure answers.

'You.'

No. Sendoh's not angry at all. He's not angry for the fever it caused him, for the hazy answers, for the foregone catches, nor for stealing his habitual spot for fishing. Not at all.

In fact, he's feeling complete.

The sun sets and early stars appear. No fish are caught, not even a pigmy gobby; except for the most beautiful and magnificent catch that Sendoh's got that day. The time is 5:57 in the afternoon.

And ever after that sea rock no longer carries one person, but two very important people; Foxy and Spiky.

END


End file.
